Free In the Darkness by Karin Fossum Page B

grumpy, you’ve been warned.’
    ‘I know you will,’ she smiled.
    They finished the meal in silence. Then she emptied the bottle into her father’s glass and cleared the table. She worked slowly. She was thinking that this might be the last time she would potter about in her father’s house. From now on she’d always think like that.
    ‘Lie down on the sofa. I’ll make us some coffee.’
    ‘I’ve got some liqueur,’ he said hoarsely.
    ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll find it. Go and lie down now, I’ll wash up and read to Emma in the meantime. Then we’ll have another bottle of wine later.’
    He stood up with difficulty, and she put a steadying hand under his arm. Emma decided she’d sing to him, to send him off to sleep more quickly, and he was all for it. Eva went back into the kitchen, stuffed some money into the jam jar that held his savings, and filled the sink with water. Soon Emma’s voice rang through the house. She sang ‘Morningtown Ride’, until Eva was left bending over the washing-up, her tears of mirth and misery dripping into the suds.
    In the evening she spread a rug over him and propped him up on a couple of pillows. They’d switched off most of the lights and sat in the semi-darkness. Emma’s bedroom door was open, they could hear her snoring softly.
    ‘D’you miss Mum?’ she asked, stroking his hand.
    ‘Every hour of the day.’
    ‘I think she’s here now.’
    ‘Of course she is, in some way or other. But I don’t know just how, I can’t work it out.’ His hand fumbled over the table towards his cigarettes, and she lit one for him. ‘Why was she unhappy, d’you think?’
    ‘I don’t know. Do you believe in God?’ she continued.
    ‘Don’t be silly!’
    They fell silent again for a long while. He drank the red wine steadily, and she knew he’d fall asleep on the sofa and wake up with a backache, as he always did.
    ‘When I’m grown up I’m going to marry you,’ she said wearily. She closed her eyes and knew that she would drop off too, sitting with her head on the back of the sofa. She couldn’t be bothered to fight it. While she was here in her father’s living room, she felt safe. As she had when she’d been little and he could protect her. He couldn’t protect her any more, but it was a good feeling all the same.

Chapter 10
    SEJER AWOKE WITH a stiff neck. As usual he’d fallen asleep in his armchair after dinner and, added to this, his feet were soaking. The dog had slobbered on them. He headed for the shower. Slowly he undressed without looking in the mirror; once under the spray he stretched himself gingerly and grimaced each time he touched the wall tiles. They were vinyl, a kind of imitation marble. They’d yellowed with the years. When he thought about it, he couldn’t imagine anything more ugly to put on a bathroom wall. Elise had nagged him for ages, begged him to put up something different, she thought they were hideous too. Yes, yes, he’d said, I’m working on it. We’ll do it in the spring, Elise. And so the years had passed. And later, when she was lying there hairless, ill and as emaciated as an old, old woman, and he, in his despair, wanted to tackle the bloody bathroom, she had shaken her head. She’d rather he sat by her bedside. You’ll have plenty of time for the bathroom later, Konrad, she’d said feebly.
    A huge sorrow overwhelmed him, and he had to blink hard to stop it gaining the upper hand. He hadn’t time for that, not now at any rate. When he’d dried and dressed himself he went into the living room and phoned his daughter , Ingrid, she was the only child they’d had. They talked about this and that for a long while, and before he rang off he said goodnight to Matteus. After this he felt better. Before going out, he stopped in front of the photograph of Elise which hung above the sofa, she smiled at him, a brilliant smile with perfect teeth and without a care in the world. Not then. He’d always liked this picture. But